It's bad enough that we have to travel bumper to bumper with those who took driving lessons from kamikaze pilots. We also have to contend with the workings of a group of bureaucrats who couldn't make life simple and give each road just one name.

A glance at the map shows that some roads have two, three, even four different names.

This, of course, can lead to confusion of the highest order and, if my suspicions are right, cost millions of tourist dollars because no one can figure out how to get where they're going.

Case in point:

A while back, some friends called to say they were heading south and wanted directions to a hotel on Hollywood beach.

Simple enough. I told them to get on Florida's Turnpike and exit off Hollywood Boulevard, then head east until they came to the beach.

"You know you're going the right way if you run into State Road 7 about a half mile after you exit," I said. "The beach is a few miles away on Ocean Drive. You're going the wrong way if you pass University Drive."

A pause on the telephone followed, the silence broken only by the crinkling of a map being twisted and turned.

"Uh, I think I know what you're talking about," my friend said. "But shouldn't we take the Sunshine State Parkway to Pines Boulevard and head to A1A? And, am I going in the right direction if I hit U.S. 441 once I exit? Is 80th Avenue the wrong way?"

You see the problem. A road is a road, but it has many different titles.

Pines Boulevard was so named because public officials in Pembroke Pines didn't want something called Hollywood Boulevard crossing through their town.

It's the same road, but civic pride took precedence over common sense.

"I think Pembroke Pines is big enough to have a major throughfare," Mayor Charles Flanagan said in defense of the name game. "We wanted our people to have a feeling that Pembroke Pines is a city to be reckoned with, not only now but in the future."

Of course, Pines isn't the only city where this exists.

In some parts, Stirling Road is 60th Street, which shouldn't be confused with 60th Avenue, which is really State Road 7 or, if you prefer, U.S. 441.

State Road A1A is Ocean Drive in Hollywood and Hallandale, but turns into Collins Avenue in Dade County.

Federal Highway has so many names that no one really knows what to call it - U.S. 1., 18th Avenue, or Biscayne Boulevard. Our fearless governor, hoping to relieve the confusion, has proposed naming it Constitution Highway, but I don't think the founding fathers would have been too pleased to learn their efforts have become the namesake of a congested roadway filled with strip shopping centers, convenience stores and mom and pop hotels.

Hallandale Beach Boulevard changes identity at State Road 7 (or whatever you want to call it), where it becomes Miramar Parkway, which sounds a lot like Miramar Boulevard, which, in fact, is also 25th Street.

I used to know my way around by the radio stations. But ever since 97 A1A became WGTR and I-95 became Zeta, I'm totally lost.

According to various authorities, the name game is caused when a road under one government's jurisdiction cuts through another government's turf. The problem is compounded when one road cuts through several jurisdictions. Hence we have U.S. 441, State Road 7, South 60th Avenue in Hollywood and 40th Avenue in Fort Lauderdale.

It's a real bureaucratic turf war; some might even see it as a government conspiracy to keep us poor drivers lost and confused.

Since opening on Jan. 25, 1957, the turnpike has been legally known as Florida's Turnpike. But, it is called the Sunshine State Parkway to help attract tourists and convince folks that there's something special about a concrete slab, according to legislative documents.

People today are smarter than that. A turnpike is a very boring strip of never-ending concrete.

Although a bit complex, some folks say the name game isn't as bad as it might seem.

"It is a little confusing at first," conceded Terry Jenkins, a supervisor with Broward County's Streets and Highways Division. "But once you do a little research and realize you're on the same road but with a different name, it's not a problem."

All right. I can buy that. I've been here almost five years and I can pretty much travel without a map.

As for my friends, they gave up. Instead of Hollywood, they decided to stay in Miami Beach.

Of course, I don't know whether they got off I-95 at State Road 826 or Miami Beach Boulevard. Who knows, maybe they took the Sunny Isles Causeway.